


Hummingbird

by queengabby



Series: crackerjack [6]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Coping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cussing, Dialogue Heavy, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Hospitals, Humor, Kissing, Manipulation, Mystery, Past Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Display of Affection, Romance, Sexual Tension, Smut, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:49:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11255169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queengabby/pseuds/queengabby
Summary: "'I did what you would've done.' You say, because it’s easier. Because even though it is your shoulder that took the brunt of the trauma, it is your heart that feels tender and bruised."Nearly two years after the RFA debacle, you're injured trying to protect Seven. Thus begins the unravelling of a secret that involves both the defunct Mint Eye and 707's former agency (levity ensues).





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! 
> 
> I've had this idea in my head for about a week. Although this chapter will be quite serious, it's just because I'm setting up the tension and some hint of plot. The rest of the work will have more humor in it, especially to afford levity after heavy scenes. Also sort of looking into some weird tropey spy stuff for later! I'll explain more as we get further along, but thank you for reading and I hope you stick around!
> 
> Enjoy!!

**“How do you manage to carry these every day?” Saeyoung asked, a bit breathless as he carries a stack of library books in his arms.**

“It’s not hard, you’re being a baby.” Saeran counters, and you can’t help but laugh when Saeyoung lets out a dramatic noise of exasperation.

The three of you walk towards the library to return old books and to donate some new ones. It’s a good day to travel within the city – the sun is hot but there’s a nice breeze at your back.

Saeran spends a lot of his time working at the library now, and you always catch him with a new novel tucked under his arm. You had managed to convince the boys into letting you carry some of the lighter books, though they insisted you put them in a canvas bag to make it easier. You asked them why they weren’t using bags too, but they looked at each other and gave away the brotherly competition they were cultivating.

You watch them walk side by side in front of you, letting them lead the way to the library. You reach the crosswalk and Saeran presses the button with his elbow.

“Are you doing okay?” he says, and you glance up from where you had been momentarily looking at the pavement to see Saeran watching you.

“No problems here,” you smile and he nods once. Though Saeran doesn’t show relief plain on his face, you’ve learned how to tell when his concern for you or Saeyoung shines through. It’s hard to believe it’s been a few years since the drama with the RFA first happened – sometimes it feels like it was just the other day. But the three of you are closer now, much closer than you’ve ever been with anyone else.

Saeyoung turns to look at you and nuzzles your cheek with his nose affectionately, bumping his books into your arm.

“My wife is so strong!” he cooes.

“Pay attention,” Saeran grumbles, gesturing to the crosswalk sign. “It should be changing any second.”

“Do you want a snuggle too, Saeran!” Saeyoung asks.

“No.”

You laugh as Saeran turns his attention away from his brother.

You look to the other side of the street and notice the people gathering to walk across. It doesn’t take much for you to tune out the brother’s bickering, and you can barely hear Saeyoung’s amicable complaining to his twin when you spy someone familiar.

It feels like you can’t quite place him in time – as if you’ve seen him briefly before but you don’t know the exact location. It must have been barely an encounter because you can’t recall his name. But what worries you is that he looks as if he’s staring at Saeyoung and Saeran.

“Let’s go,” Saeran nudges you and you look up at him right when he turns to cross the street. Saeyoung is following quickly after him, still chatting away. Your gaze returns back to the man across the street, and as he makes his way closer, you feel more and more uncomfortable. It’s not just your imagination – he’s staring at the twins from underneath his hood. The closer you get, the harder it is to deny the fact that he’s _glaring._ When the throng of people between you grows thinner, you’re able to see something in the man’s hand.

And then it feels like time slows to a crawl. Because it’s been a long time since you’ve seen a gun but it doesn’t change the feeling you get when you know something terrible is about to happen. The brothers haven’t noticed – why haven’t they noticed?

You don’t know what drives you, because you can barely feel your own body when you drop the bag in your hand and shove between Saeyoung and Saeran. You register some noise of protest from Saeyoung as you push _hard_ and end up positioned in front of them.

“What’s –” Saeran starts and you’re holding them behind you, feeling frantic despite how sluggish time insists on moving, and it’s as if you’re the only one who isn’t motionless.

There’s some sort of noise – a crack – and then there’s silence.

It’s an agonizing delay, because you know something has been put into motion but your mind isn’t keeping up with your body anymore. Like when you stub your toe and wait for your brain to register the pain.

The sudden pressure nearly knocks you off balance. It’s a hot, burning, pounding feeling at your collarbone and your shoulder. Your arms spread out, despite the pain, and push back against whatever weight is behind you.

People are screaming, someone is holding you at the waist and on your good arm, books are scattered along the white lines of the crosswalk. You’re shaking, and you wonder if you’re going into shock but strangely you have half a mind to know that you’re too far into your adrenaline rush to properly assess the situation.

You can’t tell if you’re bleeding out, but the man has dropped the gun, and he’s staring at you. There’s a flash of red when you see Saeran running over to him, and there are sirens, and your head falls back. Saeyoung is hovering over you, holding you, and you’ve never seen such agony in his eyes before. He’s screaming and it’s silent.

“I’m okay,” you try to say, but you can’t hear it come out. You wonder if you’re making any sound at all. “Saeyoung, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” You try again with the same result.

And then there’s nothing.

 

* * *

 

            It’s strange to Saeran that a man would drop his gun after going through so much effort to shoot someone. He doesn’t put up a fight either, and he gets down on his knees in the middle of the crosswalk amidst the mayhem of traffic and civilians. People are screaming, and Saeran feels detached from the chaos in a way that never used to bother him.

            “You left Magenta,” the man says under his breath. “We all left,” he continues, and Saeran simply watches. He can hear Saeyoung sobbing, saying something behind him. He dares not to turn around, knowing he’ll fixate on the blood, on the body, on –

            “If you were there, you should already know,” Saeran’s voice is flat when he speaks. “It was a cult, it conditioned us.”

            There is a long pause where the man says nothing at all.

            Then, he mumbles something else and Saeran pulls the man’s hood away from his head. When he still remains motionless, Saeran tugs at the man’s sleeves to reveal a paper bracelet.

“Were you in rehabilitation?” Saeran asks.

“They took me from there,” the man replies, and Saeran is a bit surprised he bothered to answer.

Saeran feels an inner pocket of the man’s jacket and finds a scrap of paper with the bunker’s address on it along with several phone numbers.

            “Where’d you get this?” he asks, holding the paper up to the man’s face.

            “They took me…they told me…the copycat stole you…” the man says, looking up at Saeran with desperation in his eyes. “said they took our paradise.”

            “Who did?”

            The man remains silent, and then Saeran hears more sirens getting closer. He tugs his sleeves up over his hands and grabs the gun, ejecting the ammo and tossing it across the street. The gun clatters back onto the pavement.

            “Whoever told you I was stolen is wrong.” Saeran says, “They took you out of rehabilitation to hurt you. And now you’ve hurt someone else.”

            “They told me it would help you,” the man sounds remorseful now, having realized what he’d done.

            “I know.” Saeran looks at him, really looks at the man. There’s something familiar about him, and it is because he’s a victim.

And all around them, wheels screech against the road as police officers begin to arrive.

 

* * *

  

            You wake moments later to find a weight on your shoulder. Saeyoung is still hovering over you, having removed his sweater to staunch the bleeding.

            “Please, please, please,” he’s chanting to himself under his breath, and you blink up at him, blearily.

            You know you won’t be conscious for long – you’re too weak.

            “H-how’s it look, doctor?” you whisper and the immense relief on his face at your voice makes you smile.

            “You lost a lot of blood, stay with me okay?” he says shakily, and you can see how red his eyes are.

            “I trust you. Don’t worry,” you say and Saeyoung sobs. “I love you,” you try, but your voice doesn’t carry.

            “Please, please, please, God,” Saeyoung continues.

You see Saeran above you now, speaking to Saeyoung, holding his arm, and then he’s looking at your shoulder.

            “The ambulance is here,” you hear Saeran say, and he’s replaced Saeyoung’s hands with his own over your wound.

Saeyoung’s hands have moved to your cheek, and he’s crying. Saeran is concentrated wholly on stopping your bleeding.

Paramedics arrive and you close your eyes.

           

* * *

 

 

            The rest of the RFA is at the hospital when the ambulance arrives. Saeyoung is silent, his hands are encrusted with dried blood and he’s shaking. Saeran holds him tightly to his side, and a nurse checks them both for injuries.

            While they wait, Saeran allows Yoosung and Zen to take Saeyoung to get a bottle of water. Once his brother is gone, Jumin and Jaehee sit with Saeran.

            “I think Saeyoung knows she’s going to be okay, he’s just terrified.” Saeran explains once Saeyoung is out of earshot. “The paramedics said there’s an exit wound, so the bullet isn’t lodged in her body. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

            “Saeyoung is traumatized.” Jaehee says, and it’s consistently baffling that the two of them can look so elegant even in the emergency wing of a hospital. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks him, and he nods.

            “I think so. Seeing Saeyoung panic more than me sort of…”

            “Grounds you?” Jaehee supplies. Saeran knows he owes a lot of it to you, though he keeps silent.

            “Yeah. One of us has to keep it together.” Saeran says instead. Jumin nods in agreement.

            “You clearly both cope differently.” Jaehee sighs.

            “Have the police apprehended the shooter?” Jumin asks.

            “Yeah, the ambulance left the same time as a police car took him away.” Saeran’s voice lowers, “He’s ex-Mint Eye.”

            Jaehee covers her mouth, and then leans in. “Does Saeyoung know?” she asks.

            “Don’t think so. I got a piece of paper off the guy that has our home address and a list of phone numbers I don’t recognize.”

            “So it was premeditated.” Jumin says.

            “Yeah, or he was manipulated.” Saeran shoves the paper back in his pocket. “Someone might’ve targeted him at the facility he was staying in, took advantage of his fragile state,” he spits out the last part, feeling resentment and anger boil under his skin. Saeran was better now, but what if he hadn’t been? What if he could be easily manipulated as well?

            Saeran spots Zen walking over to them, and he stands up.

            “Saeyoung and Yoosung talked to the doctor,” Zen points his thumb towards a set of doors, “they gave us her room number. We can go in and see her now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue heavy!! Please feel free to leave comments, I love 2 chat!  
> Enjoy!

**When you wake up, the room is cast in orange.** You blink drowsily, and catch a glimpse of red hair lying near your hand. You flex your fingers, and then realize belatedly that your _other_ arm is cast in a sling. You stare down at yourself for what seems like ages, but can’t connect how that piece of your body is possibly connected to the rest of you. Apparently the painkillers were _very_ effective.

            Your gaze falls slowly back to Saeyoung, who you’re thankful is resting on your good arm’s side. You thread your fingers through his hair, effectively rousing your husband from sleep.

            “Oh,” you say, not meaning to wake him. “I’m sorry,” you try to say, as he lifts his head to look at you but you find you can’t speak upon seeing his face. Always so sweet.

            “You’re awake,” he says, and he’s beautiful when he smiles, even with the dark lines of exhaustion under his eyes.

            “My dutiful sexy husband has risen me from thy deep slumber,” you say sleepily, and he laughs. “Or whatever,” you smile, and he leans forward to kiss you on the cheek, but you turn your head to kiss his mouth.

            He’s near tears, you can feel him shaking, and so you take his hand and tug. “Come up here,” you murmur against his mouth, and he kicks his shoes off as he crawls on your good side. He snakes a hand across your abdomen and rests it by the swell of your hip. You wonder how long he’d been waiting. “Here, put your head on my boob,” you suggest.

            “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says through the fresh tears, and then _laughs,_ (presumably because you used the word ‘boob’) even though it’s apparent that you’re trying not to let the reality of _having been shot_ ruin the mood.

            “This arm doesn’t hurt,” you demonstrate, despite his protests, and lift your arm so he can settle his head by your good shoulder and your breast.

            “See? As long as you can handle my armpit being nearby, this is comfortable.” You say once he's settled, your hand resting on his back. He's warm and safe, and you feel at home when he holds you.

            Saeyoung kisses your chin and hugs you, and despite your heart feeling full again, his relief still scares you.

            “What’s the verdict?” you ask him, and he lifts his head to look at your face.

            “The doctor said you’re all patched up, but you’ve got some muscle damage that’ll take a while to heal.” He swallows, looking at the loose collar of your hospital gown. You suspect he can spy your dressings from this angle, “He said you were lucky.” He adds.

            “I get that a lot,” you give him a lopsided smile – anything to postpone the inevitable lecture. You knew that behind the grief, Saeyoung was upset with you.

            Saeyoung closes his eyes and when he opens them again, he looks frustrated. “Why did you get in the way? Why didn't you tell me?”

            You know him too well now, it seems – though your prediction does little to comfort you.

            “There wasn't enough time for me to do anything _but_ get in the way,” you say, and then rest your head back on the pillow. You look up at the panelled ceiling of the hospital room, not wanting to see his expression.

            You can remember only thinking that you needed to protect the twins – your _husband_ and his _brother._ And even while you were lying on the pavement, bleeding out, you knew you had made the right choice because Saeyoung was alive and safe and unharmed. You didn’t regret your decision, but the fact that Saeyoung was trying to reprimand you _hurt._ It hurt more than you were prepared for.

            Saeyoung risked his life for you before – risked his life for _Saeran_ before, too – so why didn't he understand?

            “I did what you would've done.” You say, because it’s easier. Because even though it is your shoulder that took the brunt of the trauma, it is your heart that feels tender and bruised.

            “That's what I'm afraid of.” Saeyoung sighs and you can't help but feel the sting in your bones at his denial for your protection. You purposely move away, aggravating your shoulder in the process. You hiss in pain, and Saeyoung blindly reaches for you, trying to hold your lower back, and then your spine, anything to take the weight off your arms.

            “Why?” You ask, your good hand on his shoulder, your weight securely in his arms. In another life, Saeyoung’s show of strength, his warmth, would undoubtedly distract you – maybe even make you acquiesce. But after all this time, something needed to be said about his self-sacrificial attitude and his denial at having you do the same for him.

            Your vision blurs as you look up at him. He's panicked again, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. “Why won't you let me protect you?” you ask, and you can feel your body shake in protest.

            Saeyoung watches you helplessly, “I don't want you to get hurt!” He says in a rush, and you feel some of your tears land on your hospital gown. After all the pain he went through, all the things he had to endure on behalf of you or his brother – doesn’t he know how one-sided it is?

            “I don't want you to get hurt either!” You bawl, unable to look at his pained expression. It’s frustrating, frustrating, _frustrating!_ Your shoulder is pounding, and you lie back, closing your eyes in torment. Whatever painkiller the doctor had administered is only worsening your frayed nerves. “I love you!” you cover your eyes after the admission, and something about saying it out loud makes you sob, “You almost died trying to protect Saeran before, trying to protect _me!_ ”

            “Babe,” he says weakly, “You’re everything to me—”

 _“_ You’re everything to me, too!” You weep, crying in earnest, and Saeyoung’s breath comes out in a rush, tugging your hand away from your face until you’re the one tucked under his chin.

            “I know you can’t lose me but I can’t lose _you_ , it would break me, don’t let me lose you _please,_ ” you beg, your voice muffled in his shoulder.

            “Okay,” he says, his voice tight with emotion, and you stuff your face into his neck, pressing your lips to his skin.

            He squeezes you, still mindful of your injury, one hand resting protectively at the small of your back, the other at the back of your head, “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

            In the evening, the RFA members check on you in your hospital room again. Saeyoung had spent the entire day with you in your bed. Upon seeing you, Saeran notices your particularly fragile state. Saeyoung seems to be faring much better than before, though there's a protective edge to the way he looks at you. Something unspoken has been agreed upon, he thinks. You must have said something to his brother.

            “So the boy that shot me was in rehabilitation because he’s ex-Mint Eye?” You sum up after Saeran gives you his brief explanation. You're sitting up in bed, Saeyoung sitting on the chair next to you, holding your hand.

            “Yes,” Saeran glances over at Jumin as he speaks, “Jumin and Jaehee already know. I told them before – when you were recuperating this morning.”

            Saeyoung doesn't say anything in reply, which is a considerable restraint on his part. He probably already knew why Saeran didn't tell him immediately, but something about Saeyoung’s cheerless expression pressed Saeran to adjust his usual manner.

            “You were in shock,” Saeran supplies. Saeyoung blinks in surprise, not at his brother’s terse explanation, but the fact that he bothered to explain. “It wouldn't have done you any good to hear it at that point so I told them first.”

            “That was a good idea,” Saeyoung agrees, giving his brother a gentle smile. Satisfied, Saeran looks back at you again.

            “There was a scrap of paper in his inner jacket, which I stole,” Saeran says.

            “Could I see it?” Saeyoung asks, and Saeran reaches over the bed to hand it to him. Saeyoung uses his free hand to turn it over and read the writing. It seems to take him a moment to re-read the paper to double check, then triple check – and then Saeyoung looks incredibly uneasy.

            “This is my agency line.” He says, flipping the paper and tapping the first of five numbers.

            You, Zen, and Yoosung all make loud noises of astonishment. Jaehee is quick to shush you, murmuring how you have to ‘ _please remember, we’re in a hospital’._

“Agency line?” you ask, a bit quieter and he looks down at the scrap of paper again.

            “Yeah, it’s a prepaid cellphone in case of emergencies. It’s the only number I was technically allowed to use,” Saeyoung’s frown loosens suddenly, and a devious smile plays on his lips, “The RFA app was my best kept secret,”

            “Until your crush on your future wife,” Zen rolls his eyes good-naturedly, smiling at you.

            “That was way too obvious to be any sort of secret,” Yoosung snorts.

            You affectionately rub Saeyoung’s cheek and he clears his throat, though his embarrassed grin gives him away. He hands Saeran back the piece of paper.

            “Do you recognize any of the other numbers?” Jumin steps in.

            “Not without doing a search.” Saeyoung replies. “I’d have to get my computer to pinpoint it. But seeing that agency number…” he looks down at your clasped hands.

            “Seems like that’s our only option.” Saeran says, putting the paper back in his pocket.

            “You’re right.” Saeyoung sighs, and you give his hand a squeeze.

            “Hey, by the way, isn't the note considered police evidence?” Yoosung points to Saeran, leaning on the back of Zen’s chair.

            “Well it's ours for now.” Saeran counters, and you start laughing.

            “We’re going rogue, Yoosung!” You cheer, and Saeran is relieved to see Saeyoung crack a smile.

            “Considering how quiet we were about admitting former Mint Eye members into rehabilitation, it would be wise to keep this amongst ourselves for now.” Jumin explains, not looking up from his phone.

            “Jumin’s in, so it’s legal now.” You joke.

            He looks up at _that,_ “That is not what I said.” Jumin fixes you with a pointed stare, which you only grin at. He returns his gaze to his screen after a sigh, “This involves the agency and Mint Eye – two organizations that some of our members have had quite a bit of experience with. It just makes sense.”

            “Well, I get it but.” You look over at Saeran. “Are you sure about this? I don't want us to dig deeper only to have it upset you.”

            “I should be fine” Saeran replied, and the touch of embarrassment at your concern for him isn't lost on his brother.

            “Saeran’s a big softie now,” Saeyoung teases.

            Saeran only glares tartly at his brother, and then looks back at you to answer, “I'll tell you if it gets to be too much.” You watch him a moment longer and then nod. Your smile makes his cheeks grow hot.

            “We should have more confidence in Saeran, he's one of us now.” Zen interjects, smiling calmly.

            “Yeah!” Yoosung adds with enthusiasm.

            “Regardless, I think it's smart to take precautions.” Jaehee says, “Especially because we can all support each other. Nobody has to do anything alone." She makes a point of looking at Saeyoung while she says this, who whistles and innocently looks up at the ceiling, away from her.

            “Alright, I’ll just get my clothes and—what?” you notice everyone staring at you.

            “You’re not leaving the hospital,” Saeran looks at you, baffled.

            Jaehee takes pity on you first, “You have to be monitored in case you develop an infection.”

            “But I need to help,” you counter, as if you could help at this point.

            “Then stay in bed and recover.” Saeran shoots back.

            You drop your head back onto your pillow and stare at him, “I have been wasting my time in this hospital for only _eight hours_ and I am _already_ in agony.” You look to Saeyoung, “How long am I supposed to stay here?”

            He looks down at your hands and then back up at your face before he speaks, “Five days,”

            “At the latest?”

            “ _Earliest.”_ Saeyoung corrects and you don’t know what to say, you just sink further into your bed with a groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of plot, Reader is very very very VERY lucky. I had to look a lot of this stuff up because my area of study is extremely far from anatomy or anything medical related! I looked up more severe cases so her recovery time is basically an estimation – even the sling is probably overkill. I’m going to presume she was shot somewhere high in the trapezius muscle, above the collarbone. Definitely doesn’t hit the subclavian artery, but maybe the vein. Honestly, please don’t quiz me on this I’m embarrassing


	3. Chapter 3

**“You know, it kind of surprised me,” you start, looking up from your book and over at your husband.**

            “Hm? What did, babe?” Saeyoung has his eyes glued to his computer screen, sitting cross-legged on the chair next to your bed.

            You've been in the hospital for four days, getting regular visits from members of the RFA and nurses. You also sneak out of your room when Saeran visits so that the two of you can take walks around the hospital and in the therapy gardens (you insist it's a stealth mission even though Saeran continues to explain that _all patients are allowed in the garden_ ).

            Saeyoung spends a lot of his time with you too, making sure you're comfortable and never lonely. He stayed every night except the last, working hard at tracing the phone numbers (and dropping by the bunker to do some much needed laundry). Jaehee spent last night with you instead, sharing some of her favorite books and letting you borrow another one of Zen's DVDs.

            “Seeing the bunker’s address on the paper Saeran took.” You say.

            “Oh,” Saeyoung replies, looking over at you now. He seems to relax his posture, taking a break from typing. “Do you mean surprised like,” he feigns a dramatic gasp, “or surprised like,” and then switches to an agonized expression that reminds you vaguely of the painting ‘The Scream’.

            You laugh, “The first one.”

            “The second one was me trying to be that famous painting!” he smiles.

            You laugh harder, “That’s exactly what I thought it looked like!”

            Saeyoung’s smile broadens, exceptionally pleased that he made you happy. “I am a living museum!” he stands up, putting his laptop on the chair and goes to the foot of your hospital bed. He climbs up after giving you a saucy look, and then lies limp on his back. “How about now?” he says, his head tipped so his chin is pointed at the ceiling, trying to make his body droop further.

            “You just look like a human pancake now,” you say, and laugh when he looks up at you, affronted.

            “I was trying to be the melted clock! From that other painting!” he explains.

            You shake your head, leaning forward and poking his side. He squeaks, quickly bringing his arms to his sides and then looks at you in mock offence. “I recreate high art and you try tickling me!” he sits up in a rush, making his way up to where you’re lying in bed. You squeal when he lands on top of you, still mindful of your healing shoulder. Leaning forward, he swipes your book, sets it on the table next to you, and drops a kiss on your nose.

            “Such disrespect for pricelessness,” he murmurs, supporting his weight on his elbows on either side of you.

            “Is this you trying to take a break from work to smooch me?” you ask, grinning. He waggles his eyebrows, dropping a kiss on your mouth as you laugh. “I don’t want to get caught by the nurse,” you whisper.

            “I know their schedule, nobody’s coming in for at least a few hours.” He whispers back and you break out in a smile again, leaning forward to kiss him fully. You jump in surprise when he brushes his tongue into your mouth, though you touch his cheek with your fingers in encouragement. You only manage to pull away after an enticing nibble at your lip.

            “How daring Mr. Choi, trying to make my heart race when I’m on the mend.” You murmur when he pulls away, his lips pink and bitten. He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth in reply, and you sigh in delight, a familiar warmth crawling into the bottom of your belly.

            “You’re trying to distract me,” you accuse, trying not to sound aroused but failing completely. Saeyoung laughs, his cheeks dark with blush.

            “No, I remember what we were talking about, I just really wanted to see if I could make you squirm a little.”

            You wriggle underneath him, the both of you knowing just how much you want his hands on you. It’s hard to refrain from being intimate with Saeyoung, but you can’t forget where you are. “Tease.” You grumble.

            “It would be so easy if I—” his hand crawls up your leg, and then travels towards your inner thigh. You clasp his hand, your head buzzing from overwhelming embarrassment and want. “Saeyoung!”

            You both stare at each other for what seems like ages before you avoid his gaze, looking at the floor. Then, humiliatingly, you peek at him from under your lashes. “Tonight.” you mumble.

            His face is completely red now, his neck a wonderful shade of pink. He grins and you want to jump him. “Sure.” He whispers back.

            “Now then,” you clear your throat, trying to ignore the tingling in your thighs and your—

            Well—

            “The bunker?” You ask.

            “Yeah,” he says, looking a little nervous. “To be honest, I’ve just been trying not to think about it,” he laughs sheepishly and you blanch.

            “I'm sorry—” you begin, but he touches your cheek gently.

            “No, it's okay,” he presses his forehead to yours, kissing your nose again. “I think…I'm trying to process everything, still. I’d like you to listen, so we can talk about it.”

            “Of course, Saeyoung,” you help him rearrange himself on his side again, his hand resting near your rib cage.

            “First of all, the fact that you're okay, that you were trying to protect _me,_ I think my heart can take it now.” he swallows, his smile still tentative, and you close the distance, pecking him on the lips.

            “But the connections with the agency, and how they may be involved – maybe even trying to get back at me – I don't know what they're planning yet,” he closes his eyes, “and the possibilities are all I can think about.”

            You lean your forehead against his again, breathing evenly. It's quiet between the two of you for a while, as Saeyoung gathers his thoughts.

            There's a knock at the door and he doesn't move, “Want me to check?” you ask and he nods silently.

            “It’s open!” You call, and the door creaks open, Saeran popping his head in.

            “Hey, am I interrupting?” He asks.

            Saeyoung lights up upon seeing his twin, “Saeran! Come in, I was about to talk about something you might be able to help us with.”

            He quirks a brow but says nothing, turning to close the door behind him. Saeran walks over and takes a seat in the chair opposite of Saeyoung’s computer setup.

            “What do you need help with?” He asks, and the fact that he offers so easily makes you smile. You turn your hand over on your wounded side and look at him meaningfully. He clears his throat and takes your hand momentarily, gives it a squeeze, and then leans back in his chair.

            “If we think about Saeran’s theory,” Saeyoung starts, “if the agency is using ex-Mint Eye members _because_ they’re easy to manipulate, what’s their end game? It can't be to groom new agents,”

            “Why not?” You ask.

            “The guy, after he shot you, he couldn't even move his legs.” He explains and Saeran nods in agreement.

            “The scrap of paper had our address on it, but there's no way they expected someone who _drops their gun_ after they fire it _once_ to be able to access a high security bunker.” Saeyoung says. “I’ve had people like Vanderwood access the bunker but it’s always been with my explicit permission – they can't do it alone and Vanderwood is as experienced as me.”

            “It's been a few years, too. You’d think they would have someone more highly trained. Why would they risk putting a rookie agent on someone like Saeyoung?” Saeran asks.

            “Maybe they don't care about the agent?” You suggest, and the twins look at each other as if they've shared an epiphany. It's quiet for a beat, and then something awful twists across Saeran’s face.

            “Shit.” Saeyoung breathes. He leans up and stares at Saeran. “Saeran? Are you okay?”

            Saeran breathes hard through his nose and then presses a palm to his forehead, bowing forward. “Give me a second.” He says, his voice tense.

            You suddenly feel sick.

            The Choi twins had taken down the intelligence agency when Saeran was rescued, effectively crippling it by releasing confidential information to the public. There were probably loyal agents who found out they were responsible, and viciously hated the twins for taking away their livelihoods, their jobs and their identities. If someone had managed to learn about Mint Eye, (and you have no doubt there were tiny traces of the organization lost out there somewhere) they could make the connection back to Saeyoung and Saeran.

            A person tried to use the ex-Mint Eye member to get revenge on Saeyoung and devastate Saeran. Not only that – they were using someone vulnerable and traumatized so as to not expend a real agent, and to keep their hands clean.

            “This is all conjecture, though.” Saeran sighs, and then manages to look up at the two of you after a long moment of anxiety. “It seems to fit, but we _have_ to make sure we’re right. For the sake of those victims, those phone numbers are the only lead we have.”

            Saeyoung runs his hands through his hair and groans, “I still haven't gotten them figured out yet, I've been trying for three days.”

            Saeran looks thoughtful for a moment, and stands up. “I'm going to update the others and then I'll try to help you on those numbers.”

            “Okay,” Saeyoung watches Saeran go to the door. “Saeran?”

            Saeran turns to look at the two of you, determined. “I can do this.”

            Saeyoung smiles, nods, and Saeran slips out the door.

 

* * *

 

            It’s near midnight when Jumin and Jaehee come into your room.

            “I managed to get the files of Mint Eye members we admitted,” Jumin says.

            “Is that legal?” You ask, slightly amused. Saeyoung, who is still dutifully sitting next to you, laughs under his breath.

            “They aren't an in depth analysis,” he reasons, and you know he's not irritated but he could look the part, “it's just basic paperwork for their records, like admission dates or release dates.” He flips through one to show as an example. It's an innocuous looking form sheet with various signatures and dates.

            “I’m going to comb through the files and see which one is the man who was arrested for the shooting,” Jaehee explains.

            “Are you sure this is okay, Jaehee? I know you're busy with the café, I could do it.” You volunteer and Jaehee shakes her head with a smile.

            “I don't mind. I’d like to help and I want _you_ to focus on recovering.” She says and you nod, remembering how ruthless Jaehee can be when she's angry.

            “We’ll have to go to the police station to see about his punishment as well…” Jumin sighs, “I was hoping the police wouldn't be involved but it seems that will be inevitable.”

            “Is he going to be okay?” You ask, and you see Saeyoung looking at you from the corner of your eye. You know he's watching your expression – watching for discomfort. You were discussing the man who shot you, after all. But upon discovering his past with Mint Eye, you knew there was no way you could hold him accountable.

            Even though there was an undeniable part of you that was scared.

            You clasp your hands together to stop them from shaking, and pray Saeyoung doesn't see.

            “Once they find out he was in rehabilitation for a traumatic experience, I’m sure they're going to find him not criminally responsible.”

            “I would assume he would be readmitted, perhaps transferred?” Jaehee looks to Jumin.

            “I can't say for sure.” Jumin folds his arms over his chest and looks pensive.

            There's a knock at the door and he gets up to answer it, stepping aside when the doctor enters.

            “Good evening, how is everyone?” The doctor smiles. She picks up your file on the folder hanging at the foot of your bed.

            “Feeling better,” you say.

            “We’ll step out, then. Have a good night.” Jaehee waves to both you and Saeyoung before leaving the room with Jumin.

            “I’ll just have a look here,” the doctor says, helping you lean forward to look at the back of your shoulder. Saeyoung watches you quietly, giving you a reassuring smile when you glance at him.

            “You're making a speedy recovery,” she says amicably and lets you lie back again. “A nurse came in earlier today to change your bandages, right?” She asks, and you nod. Scribbling something on her clipboard, she sets it down on the table. “I’m going to put you down for discharge by tomorrow afternoon.”

            Your eyes shoot over to Saeyoung and he grins at you before the doctor continues, “I’m going to give you a medical sling to wear for the next two to three months – it’ll give your shoulder muscles a chance to relax while they’re on the mend.” She looks to Saeyoung. “your husband may have to help you put it on. And you're going to have some muscle discomfort for quite a while, I’d even suggest some physiotherapy for your shoulder if it persists.”

            “Okay, thank you,” you smile and the doctor signs off your documents before she bids you both a good night and closes your door behind her.

            Sighing happily, you spread out on your bed and then turn your head to grin at Saeyoung. He laughs at how pleased you look, leaning over and kissing your cheek. When he pulls away only enough to look into your eyes and brush your hair from your face, you find yourself feeling worried for him.

            “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the house to get some sleep?” you ask softly. Saeyoung’s hand pauses from where it’s combing through your hair, and then he smiles gently.

            “Scoot over,” he says, and you bite your lip but comply, letting him crawl up on your bed next to you. He cups your cheek and presses his forehead to yours, breathing evenly out his nose. You close your eyes and relax in his hold. “Freedom is around the corner and you’re trying to get rid of me?” he teases, and you open your eyes again to look at him. He’s got a goofy grin on his face and it makes you laugh.

            “I’m trying to be thoughtful for my poor husband’s health, he might be uncomfortable sleeping in this tiny bed with me every night.” You explain. Saeyoung slowly leans up on an elbow and then pulls himself closer, a hand reaching onto your opposite hip and tugging you flush against him. He may as well have yanked the breath out of you, your heart nearly thunderous in your chest. You had been so distracted since the morning – trying to cope with all the new information given to you – it catches you off guard how much you suddenly crave Saeyoung’s affections. It’s also wildly embarrassing how quickly he can go from silly to sultry and how it leaves you dazed.

            “If my lovely wife wants to come a little closer, the edges of the bed would be _much_ roomier.” He murmurs, and you can’t help yourself but kiss him, using your good arm to wrap around his neck and tug him closer. He lets out a pleased hum and kisses you back, the hand on your hip moving to the small of your back. When you part, he smiles.

            “This morning I remember you saying _something_ about tonight—”

            You gasp, “How scandalous Mr. Choi,” and his cheeks redden, but he’s grinning like a fool now.

            “If you’re tired, I understand,” he says, and there’s a teasing note to his voice but you can tell he’s asking you out of concern. He’d never pressure you into anything.

            Your fingers brush up the hem of Saeyoung’s shirt, “No,” you kiss him gently and he follows your mouth, eager to kiss you back. “I’d love for you to show me what God Seven was thinking,”

            He smiles coquettishly, “In that case,” and follows it up by affectionately kissing your nose. “I’ll make sure to be very thorough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey,,,,  
> i'm gonna do it, lads. we're gonna get the full damn smut!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT AHOY!!!!!! also massive amounts of cussing, my goodness. i upped the rating to explicit in preparation for this. tags for what the smut contains will also be added in a sec!
> 
> I wanted to make a note just about the way that I'll be updating in the next few weeks: I don't suspect I'll be posting anything until next week at the very earliest. I will be focusing primarily on my two other fics [Keep You Steady](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9204317/chapters/20880779) (which is a mystic messenger fic) and my Dragon Age II fic [Long & Lost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8350891/chapters/19130707). Since I started them first, I'd like to get them done first UNLESS I get comments that suggest you'd like to see more of this first. Let me know!
> 
> I would love feedback on this fic too, because I know where I'm going with it but I want to make sure it's a good read for everyone. I also love to chat, so please don't hesitate to give me your input!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Saeyoung had the forethought to lock the door before the two of you continued,** even though the minutes he spent jiggling the handle and not _making out with you_ were pretty agonizing. He turns around to look at you while shucking off his sweater, and you watch him with excitement as he returns to the bed. You sit up to meet him as he makes his way over to you and you kiss him hungrily, incapable of holding yourself back even a little bit.

            If you weren’t already preoccupied with your want for him, you would’ve been self-conscious at your own eagerness. Saeyoung expects it, however, because he knows you so well. He doesn’t seem to mind, stepping out of his shoes and joining you on your bed again.

            “Lie back down,” he murmurs, and helps you scoot yourself forward to recline, your head resting back on your pillow. He lies down next to you, propped up on his side, pressing himself against your body.

            “So serious,” you tease and Saeyoung smiles against your mouth when he kisses you again. The enthusiasm that both of you usually have during sex is still there, but his touches are much more delicate than you’re used to. You realize belatedly that his meaning of the word ‘thorough’ is actually intended to have you strung out and teased. You had given him too much time to prepare – he had all day to think of ways to make you come apart.

            Saeyoung runs his palm down the length of your hospital gown, between your breasts over the fabric. He doesn’t kiss you, though his mouth remains close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. His hand drops to your naval and rests there.

            You know for certain now. He intends to drive you insane. And the worst part is that he’s barely touched you but you already feel an overwhelming urge to squeeze your thighs together. He knows it. _He knows it._

            “You’re such a fucking tease,” you say, breathless, and Saeyoung smiles _devilishly._ Your face burns, your skin burns, you’re on fire under his touch. “Fuck,” you say impatiently, albeit pleasantly.

            “I’ve barely done a thing, babe,” he whispers, and _god damn him_ he knows what he’s up to. You want to nip his mouth but he pulls away every time your lips brush his. You use your good arm to reach around him and pinch his ass, which he flinches at and gives you a mischievous look _._ “How rude! I’m trying to do as the lady asks – being thorough and all that.” He jokes.

            “I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t touch me.”

            “I am touching you! A lot, actually~”

            You whine, _actually whine,_ turning your face away from him in undeniable agony. He giggles, pressing his mouth to your ear, and then kissing your jaw.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he asks.

            “Why don’t you check?” you snark, still looking away.

            “Why don’t you show me?” he counters.

            He wonders if he’s gone too far because you go wholly silent, your eyes closed. But you surprise him when you look back, your pupils blown wide and skin flushed. “What will God Seven give me if I’m good?” you ask.

            His breath hitches and you _know_ you’ve caught him now. He wasn’t expecting that. Saeyoung brings his hand up and cups one of your breasts, kissing you hard for a moment. You immediately reciprocate, a groan escaping your throat without your permission. His mouth goes softer, gentler, as he gives you a few more kisses.

            “Say my name?” he looks at you, and you can tell it’s a plea. You smile, full of affection. He’s letting you take control now, letting you decide what he does.

            You’re able to extend your arm on your wounded shoulder’s side enough to grab the hem of your hospital gown. “How will you touch me, Saeyoung?” you purr.

            “With my mouth?” he says, though his voice lilts as a question. You make an approving noise but shake your head. He looks worried for half a moment but you touch his cheek with your hand.

            “I want you up here,” you murmur, “while you use your hand.”

            You can hear him swallow, and the both of you know that there’s something incredibly vulnerable about your request. The two of you have exchanged kisses throughout your stay at the hospital, various gentle touches, but the unspoken fear at how much _danger_ you had been in – it’s clear how it’s affected both of you deeply. Saeyoung is treating you carefully but you can tell he wants to be demanding. He wants that closeness, that intimacy, because the thought of losing each other is still fresh in your minds.

            Saeyoung barely remembers his earlier request to see your underwear, because now he’s just mindlessly looping his finger in the fabric at your hip to help you shimmy them off. He leans up momentarily to tug them all the way down your legs, kissing your knee while he’s nearby, and then returns to his spot next to you.

            “After this,” you begin, as he guides your legs apart, hospital gown around your waist. “I want to watch you.”

            Saeyoung’s breath hitches, and you can feel how hard he is against your leg.

            “I want to watch you touch yourself,” you clarify. “and I want to watch you cum.”

            “Babe,” he breathes out, his hand stuttering on your ribcage. You place your hand over his, and kiss his cheekbone. He closes his eyes and shudders.

            “Will you take off your shirt?” you murmur and it takes him a moment to gather the strength to move away from you, even temporarily. He grabs his shirt at the back of the collar and tugs it over his head, tossing it to the end of the bed. You open your arms to him and he kisses you, hot and wet and wanting. His hand is no longer hesitant, moving to the apex of your thighs and cupping your heat.

            You moan, gasp, and then he presses his forehead to yours, his fingers ghosting along your slit. Your legs part a bit more, and your breath comes out in a rush when his fingers effortlessly slip between your folds.

            “Fuck,” his voice is ragged when he realizes how wet you are. You smile at him, both of you never breaking eye contact as he rubs your clit. It feels like it goes on for ages, the two of you staring wordlessly at each other while he works you to your peak – and Saeyoung seems utterly content to watch you as you shiver and gasp his name. He presses two of his fingers to your entrance and then strokes back to your clit, repeating the motion while your breath stutters out.

            Saeyoung’s eyebrows are knit together in concentration, watching your face as you gasp and keen. You can feel your nipples rub against the fabric of your hospital gown, enticing you to pinch one between your fingers.

            “Saeyoung,” you whimper when he rubs tight circles on your clit with his thumb, “Yes, a-ahh,” you close your eyes, the muscles in your thighs tensing.

            “Look at me,” he murmurs and you open your eyes again. His smile makes his cheeks look even pinker. “Yes, just like that,” his voice is low, smitten with how you struggle for breath.

            Saeyoung switches motions, slowly slipping a finger into your heat and your belly clenches.

            “Good?” he asks, his hair dishevelled from where he pressed his forehead to yours, his glasses fogged at the bottom of the lenses. You nod quickly, surging forward to kiss him. He tries to prolong your pleasure, keeping his pace slow and steadfast.

            You cant your hips into his hand and you can hear how wet you are – how easy it is for him to slide his finger within you. You feel as if you’re burning from the inside, a familiar hot coil growing and growing until you lose any semblance of patience.

            Your kisses are now sloppy and desperate, and you let out a sob of pleasure despite yourself. “Saeyoung, I need—ah!” you press a hand to his cheek, nodding vigorously in approval when you feel him take his finger out and resume his earlier ministrations to your clit. He presses a bit harder and you’re so _noisy_ now but you can’t help it.

            “That’s your favourite, huh?” he smiles and god god _god_ you love this man. This sweet, teasing man who touches you, and loves you, and eagerly watches how his hands drives you mad.

            “A-ahh!” you hold so tightly to his shoulder you think you might bruise him but Saeyoung’s gaze never leaves yours. He leans down just a little, angling his wrist to touch you fuller, his fingers swirl around your bud and your entire body quakes with your impending climax. “Oh, fffuck, Saeyoung!” your toes curl and he reaches up to kiss you, his tongue laving your mouth hotly. Your hand moves down to grab his arm with an iron grip, thrusting your hips mindlessly against his fingers. Stars burst in your vision, you have to squeeze your eyes tight, clenching your thighs around his hand like a vice. Your entire body pulses with your orgasm, and Saeyoung massages your clit through it, gentler and gentler until your body feels absolutely boneless.

            You breathe hard through your nose, and look up at Saeyoung. He’s smiling – of course he is – and he pecks your lips. “Maybe I should’ve teased you a bit more, you look so beautiful when you squirm.” He grins.

            “When my shoulder is healed and I regain full functionality of my muscles, _you will be very sorry.”_ You say, breathless.

            He looks delighted, “Promise?”

            You laugh deliriously but muster up your energy and sit up. When you look over at Saeyoung, he’s quirking a brow almost in challenge. You feel fairly confident you’ll be able to do it without injuring yourself, so you twist your body and crawl on top of him. He seems to understand what you intend to do because he holds your hips for balance as you tug your hospital gown back into place. You capture his mouth in a bruising kiss, and he moans in approval, a hand running through your hair.

            “I love you,” you tell him, and before he can respond, you grind down against his hips and he moans _._

            “F-fuck, babe, I—I love you too, _fuck,_ ” he whispers roughly, and you can feel how hard he is when you repeat the motion, earning another groan. The two of you rush to get Saeyoung’s pants off, and he laughs when you waste no time in pulling down his boxer briefs. It takes some manoeuvring, and you steal a few kisses.

            “Is this comfortable?” you ask, and Saeyoung is naked, safe for the pants and underwear around his ankles. He’s flushed red down his neck and he nods, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Are you okay?” you ask, a bit worried.

            “Y-yeah, I just,” he grins sheepishly, his chest heaving, “Performance anxiety – I haven’t done this for you in a little while, so,”

            “Like, a month.” You counter and he reddens further.

            “Well I’m not the pervert in this relationship, I don’t count the days!” he grins, and then laughs when you pinch his nipple. “Hey!” his laughter mixes with a moan when you lean over to kiss it better, laving him with your tongue. When you pull back, he’s watching you (and _rather_ unchastely).

            You lift your hospital gown again, just enough to let you spread your legs, and brush your fingers along your heat. Saeyoung’s dick twitches, staring at your hand as it moves between your folds. He moans when he sees your hand come out slick.

            “You sure I’m the pervert?” you ask when he’s transfixed – incapable of looking away from your hand, and then you wrap it around his cock.

            Oh you love that noise; that wracked gasp that makes his head fall back and bare his throat to you. He puts his hand over yours, the two of you pumping him together. You move your hand to the head of his cock to wipe at the bead of precum while Saeyoung continues to jerk himself off.

            You press your hands to his pectorals, and then roll your thumbs over his nipples in slow, steady rotations. He continues his own motions, his cock twitching under his hand.

            “Did you like fingering me, Saeyoung?” you run your hands along his thighs and you can feel the muscles in his legs jump with your attention. His rhythm stutters and you give him a squeeze, urging him to continue.

            “Shit, babe— _yes­,”_ his bangs are a complete mess now, his ears a shade darker than usual. You scoot up closer, kissing his temple, and then his jaw. He tilts his head up to kiss you and you let him. You make him open his mouth to you, pressing your advantage using your tongue.

            The urge to leave bite marks on his neck has you pulling away from the kiss to press your lips on his throat. First, you put your hand over his own, forcing him to slow down his rhythm until it's agonizingly slow. He shudders, subject to your hot breath on his neck as you suck on the tender skin. When you’re satisfied with your work, your lips move to his ear.

            “Do you like when I watch you?” you ask him and he groans your name. You give him permission to work himself faster under your admiring gaze.

            “Y-yes,” he covers his mouth with the back of his free hand, hips jerking into the hand on his cock.

            “What do you think about?”

            “ _Fuck,”_

“Do you think about me?” you press a finger to one of the bite marks on his neck.

            “ _Yes—babe,_ I think about you,” he arches his back, closing his eyes, “I think about being inside you, how you sound when I— _ah!”_

            Suddenly, and without warning, Saeyoung climaxes with a keening moan. You suppose you were being a bit unfair, teasing him in all the ways you knew he liked. Thick spurts of cum land on his stomach and his hand. He trembles and groans when you put your hand over his, languidly helping him pump his cock until it’s spent. “Guhh, _fuck,”_ he wheezes with effort. You watch the rise and fall of his chest as he comes down from his high, and then when it's quiet, you feel a deep gratification at seeing him so serene.

            And then, you giggle in your post-sex euphoria, looking from Saeyoung’s stomach and down the line of his—

            “Hey!” he says, using a hand to cover his crotch and then he blushes harder, deciding to cover his face instead. He groans, “I can’t believe you’re laughing at me,”

            “I’m not laughing at you!” you laugh a bit harder. “That was so fucking hot, I’m laughing because you’re amazing and I’m just, like…” you struggle for words.

            He peeks at you from between his fingers

            “I’m just unbelievably in love with you.” Your cheeks are pink, and you’re thrilled at how _complete_ you feel when you’re with him. In every conceivable way, he just makes you so fucking happy.

            “Thank god that makes two of us,” Saeyoung’s voice is soft. “Now let’s clean up this mess and cuddle.”

            “Hell _yes_.”

  

* * *

 

 

            You leave the hospital with Saeran and Saeyoung after being discharged at noon. After being in a hospital gown for five days, you were happy to be in your regular clothes again. Saeyoung had also given you his ‘Honey Buddha Chips’ complimentary baseball cap to wear since the sun was so hot today.

            “Feels weird to wear shoes,” you say as you’re walking to the car.

            “I’ll bet! Your feet aren’t nakey anymore.” Saeyoung says, swinging your good hand in his own. Your other arm is in your medical sling, which was a pretty simple looking contraption. Saeyoung had helped you fit nice and snug and even offered to sign it like a plaster cast. Saeran had firmly rejected the idea, _your arm wasn't even broken._

            You all pack into the car together after putting the last of Saeyoung’s gear in the trunk.

            “So the bunker is completely safe?” Saeran asks from the backseat. You have trouble buckling your seatbelt and Saeran reaches forward to help you without being prompted. You ruffle his hair affectionately before he leans back in his seat, which he doesn’t _completely_ dislike.

            “I kept RoboCat on for surveillance.” Saeyoung turns the key in the ignition.

            “That's not comforting.”

            “Hey! I'll have you know that RoboCat is very good at his duties!” Saeyoung turns onto the main road towards home. “But I also checked the security cameras, and the log in dates. I guess I’m—well,”

            “Well?” Saeran repeats.

            “I think we’re going to have to move out of the bunker regardless.”

            “Finally.” Saeran sighs and Saeyoung looks at him from the rear view mirror.

            “Saeran! That bunker is full of memories!”

            “All memories, and no windows.” He grumbles.

            “Can I be honest?” You look at your husband and he smiles. “I like the idea.” He stops smiling.

            “Moving?!” Saeyoung whines. “Betrayal…my own wife siding with my brother…”

            “ _You_ said we always wanted to build our own place eventually! We've just been so busy settling down everything else we didn't get time to figure out when.” You lean your arm against the window. “And bunkers are depressing.”

            “Seconded.” Saeran folds his arms over his chest and Saeyoung acquiesces with a sigh. “This was _your_ idea.” Saeran reminds him.

            “I know! Gahhh I'm just thinking of all the work!”

            “We can figure that out later, I have what we need to get those other numbers.” Saeran says and you turn in your seat to look at him.

            “Really? Amazing!” You look at Saeyoung. “Saeran is amazing!”

            “Saeran is amazing!” Saeyoung joins in.

            “Please stop,” Saeran flushes with embarrassment. You giggle just as Saeyoung gets onto the highway, with the rest of the ride remaining uneventful.

You turn on the radio and make idle chat with the brothers until you all arrive back at the bunker.

            Saeyoung unlocks your seatbelt for you and pecks your lips before he gets out of his own seat, grabbing his equipment from the trunk with Saeran’s help.

            “Bunker sweet bunker!” you reach out your good arm in a grandiose gesture towards the building. Saeyoung unlocks the front door and ushers the two of you in before re-initializing the codes behind him.

            You drop your bag that Saeyoung had packed for you in your bedroom and put the ball cap on his armoire. The doorbell rings, and you freeze. Saeyoung didn’t say he was expecting anyone.

            Leaving the bedroom, you walk down the hall to where the main area is, and where Saeyoung keeps his main computer setup.

            “Saeyoung?” you call, and he comes around the corner from the kitchen, having taken out a yogurt cup for a snack. Spoon in hand, he goes to his computer and flips on one of the monitors, clicking through the security cameras outside. You stand behind him, a hand on the back of his computer chair.

            “Oh, wait,” Saeran returns to the main room and sees both of you hovering over the live feed. The main door’s camera pops up on screen and there is, indeed, a figure there.

           “That’s who I called.” Saeran clarifies.

            It takes you a moment to realize who you’re seeing on the video feed. Light brown hair is gathered in a short ponytail under a purple baseball cap. They’re wearing a puffy grey vest with a hoodie underneath and dark pants. When they finally glance up at the camera, they pull a red lollipop out of their mouth and give a mock salute.

            “Yo,” they say, and promptly bite down on the lollipop, crushing it between their teeth.

            Saeyoung’s spoon drops from his mouth and you both shout in unison.

 

            “Vanderwood!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!!!! thanks for being so patient. I decided to forgo the schedule I had and just do what I want for a bit. I've been working on a very self-indulgent marvel fic and it's become quite a big project. I also have snippets of a mgs:pp AU I never posted that I'm still contemplating. I've decided that this fic will be part of the crackerjack series, though 'Keep You Steady' is still considered a standalone. Oh, and it's coming along, if you were wondering! 
> 
> I've got the end in sight for this one and I'm so glad you've stuck with me!!!! 
> 
> Please enjoy!!
> 
> x

* * *

            **“What are you doing here!” Saeyoung asks as he escorts Vanderwood through the main door.**

            “I have to say, your tendency to vocalize your surprise really isn’t a great habit for an agent.” Vanderwood kicks off their sneakers and hands Saeyoung the garbage from their eaten lollipop.

            “Gross.”

            “I haven’t been here for a while, I don’t know where the garbage is anymore.” Vanderwood explains, walking down the hall and sitting on the sofa. They begin taking out their laptop and other expensive looking equipment.

            “It’s where it’s always been, obviously!” Saeyoung complains, though he picks up his own garbage from his earlier snack before retreating to the kitchen.

            “I looked after you for god knows how long, you can throw something away for me just this once,” Vanderwood calls to him as they boot up their computer. “Besides, I’m doing you a favor.”

            “What kind of favor?” you pipe up, and Vanderwood glances over at you.

            “Ah, sorry I didn’t greet you properly. You look better, all things considered.” Vanderwood takes off their hat, and then looks around the living room. “This place looks nicer than I remember, too.”

            “We painted it,” you offer and Vanderwood nods appreciatively.

            “ _You_ did most of the work,” Saeran says as he appears next to you. “You should sit down, you’re still recovering.” He points to the loveseat next to Vanderwood and you take a seat before a glass of water is held in front of you.

            You look up at Saeran and his cheeks look a little pink. “You should drink something.” He says quickly.

            Smiling, you take the glass from him with your good hand, “Thank you.”

            “I called Vanderwood here to help us with the case.” Saeran explains, changing the subject.

            “I didn’t know you two were friends,” Saeyoung says lightly, upon returning from the kitchen.

            “You never asked.” Saeran counters.

            “To be fair, I’m quite hard to reach.” Vanderwood explains, typing something on their laptop. “Saeran said it was an emergency, and of course I feel bad for your wife because she’s – well,” they look at Saeyoung as he rounds the sofa to sit next to you. “Married to someone like you.”

            “Hey!” Saeyoung exclaims. “I thought you were going to say because she was shot…”

            “Indirectly caused by you.”

            “ _Hey,_ ” you glare at Vanderwood who only holds their hands up in mock innocence.

            “I’m not blaming him, I’m stating the facts of the case.” They smile, “Besides, I’d be a fool to go against you two, as I’ve discovered.”

            You put your glass down on the coffee table nearby to leave your good hand free. You scoot closer on the cushions to Saeyoung until your leg is pressed against his, and rest your good hand on his knee. He seems to appreciate the gesture, putting his arm around your shoulders with a smile. 

            “So this is formally a case now, then?” Saeyoung asks, looking back up at Vanderwood.

            “Your wife was shot by someone who was still recovering from trauma, and who was linked to an organization formerly known to the three of you. That’s a case.” Vanderwood explains, and then yawns. “I’ve been spending time looking up those phone numbers you sent me, Saeran.”

            “Is that why you told me to stop tracking them? You were having Vanderwood do it?” Saeyoung gives Saeran a lopsided smile.

            “You were stressed and I knew you wouldn’t get anywhere.” Saeran shrugs, “Shouldering some of the work seemed appropriate.” And when Saeyoung’s smile turns gentle, Saeran looks away with a reddened face.

            “Any leads?” the twin asks Vanderwood.

            “Sort of.” Vanderwood takes out a copy of the numbers scribbled on the corner of a crumpled, coffee-stained napkin. “The first number is Luciel’s old agency number, as you already know.” Vanderwood looks up at you and you nod silently before they continue, “Numbers two and three are payphones within the area of the shooting.”

            Saeyoung looks up, “What about the last two?”

            Vanderwood looks back at him pointedly, “That’s where you three come in.”

            “How so?” Saeran had sat down on a nearby armchair amidst Vanderwood’s explanation.

            “We should try calling the last unknown numbers using one of the payphones on the list,” they point to the napkin. “Since you told me the shooter had this on him, and the assumption right now is that he was being manipulated, we can guess that this piece of paper was given to him by whoever sent him to kill Saeyoung.”

            You wonder, for a moment, why someone would risk the discovery of the phone numbers by writing them down in the first place. “It seems reckless to send someone so inexperienced after someone like Saeyoung, and then on top of that, have them carry around such damning evidence.”

            “They might’ve thought the list would end up in police custody and then conveniently go missing from storage.” Saeyoung guesses.

            “That happens often?” you ask him. Saeyoung sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

            “It would take a lot of investigation for anyone to find the information we already have about Mint Eye and the agency.” He explains, “What kind of detective would go through the effort to discover such a huge secret when the victim was merely injured and the attacker is unstable?”

            “So they’d write it off and the evidence would be lost.” You breathe out, suddenly feeling the weight of your arm sitting in the medical sling. Saeyoung squeezes your good hand in his own.

            “Regardless, I took it so that’s covered.” Saeran says, and you can’t miss the smirk that passes over Vanderwood’s lips.

            “Whoever set this guy up probably was instructed to use a payphone on the list and call one of the two numbers we don’t know yet.” Saeyoung says, resting his cheek on the knuckles of his free hand. He looks at Vanderwood, “You didn’t call either of them?”

            Vanderwood rolls his eyes, “I’ve been out of the field for a while but I’m not an idiot. The fourth number looks like an agency line, it’s definitely tapped.”

            “So then what’s the point of calling either of those numbers from the payphones? They check the news, they probably know he failed.” You say.

            “He’s probably not the only one.” Saeran says quietly, and you look over at the twin.

            “What?” you ask, your heart feeling like it’s being squeezed in your chest.

            Saeran looks up at you, and his expression reveals just how sick it makes him feel, “He’s probably not the only one going after Saeyoung.”

           

* * *

 

           

            Though the four of you agree to wait until tomorrow morning to start your plan with the payphones, you have trouble falling asleep for the night. You were uncommonly quiet at dinner, admitting to not feeling hungry and excusing yourself to bed early. Saeyoung had slipped into bed near midnight, but your fitful slumber kept you from really relaxing into his arms.

            The digital clock on top of Saeyoung’s dresser reminds you how sluggish time passes when you’re waiting to do something important. You give up, gently nudging away from Saeyoung to stand up and go to the bathroom. You’re too much of a coward to turn on the light, so you feel around for the water glass you know is near the corner of the bathroom counter. The only sound is the hissing of the tap as the cup is filled, and you take a drink. You brush your teeth for the hell of it – just to kill even a few minutes you know otherwise would be spent rolling restlessly next to your husband. When you return to the bedroom, you can see the outline of Saeyoung as he turns his head toward you.

            “Can’t sleep?” he murmurs.

            “No,” you reply, and when he reaches his hand out to help you lie back down, you feel embarrassed at the attention. You sit cross-legged instead, facing him.

            “Penny for your thoughts?” Saeyoung asks, holding your good hand.

            “I hope you have a lot of pennies,” you quip. He lets out a ghost of a laugh, too sleepy to make much sound. His fingers trail up your arm to the softer skin of your inner elbow.

            You let your hand press on his chest and watch as it rises and falls with his steady breathing.

            “What are you worried about?” he asks again, the concern evident in his voice now.

            “You.” Is your reply, and he hums in confusion.

            “What Saeran said, about more people coming after you,” You explain quietly. Your hand moves down below his belly button, and then your fingers crawl under the hem of his shirt so that you can brush your hand along his stomach. Saeyoung obliges, putting his hand on your own over the soft cotton. “It’s all I can think about.”

            Saeyoung lets you trail your hand back to the middle of his chest, his skin warm and smooth. His free hand thumbs the swell of your hip when he speaks, “While I’m flattered that you’re so worried about me, you have to remember that I used to be an agent.” He reminds you.

            “That imagery is _very_ alluring to me, I can assure you.”

            “Bit of a Bond girl, are you?” he teases.

            “I’m particular – I like a guy whose also into memes.” You unhook yourself from being cross-legged, “The duality of man, and all that.”

            “How filthy.” He snorts. Though the words go unspoken, Saeyoung helps you balance while you maneuver to lie down. He means to pull you next to him, but you shift your own momentum by swinging your leg over his hip. He catches your meaning easily enough, since he knows you like pinning him down more than you let on. Even in the dark, you know he’s smiling.

            You reach your good hand up to brush along his jaw and up to his chin. When you lean down and brush your lips against his tentatively, he breathes out, returning the kiss just as gently. One of his hands helps alleviate the weight you put on your wounded arm, the other hand goes around your back. You stay like that for a while, exchanging soft kisses and touches. When you lean back and rest your forehead against his, Saeyoung breathes your name softly.

             “We should try to sleep while we can,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ears. “And then in the morning we’ll –” and Saeyoung is cut off by a firm kiss.

            “Worry about it in the morning.” You whisper. When you pull yourself back to lie against him, you take his hand. “Now spoon me like you mean it, Double-Oh-Seven.”

           

* * *

 

 

            Jaehee calls when the four of you have left the bunker near mid-morning.

            “I found the paperwork of the patient whose responsible for the shooting,” she begins after you’ve exchanged pleasantries. “But something else came up in my investigation that is disturbing.”

            You put Jaehee on speakerphone so the others can hear while Saeyoung drives. “They have multiple people responsible for administrative duties like admitting and releasing patients, but there is only one employee that signs the forms of former Mint Eye members to be released: Tristan Rigby.”

            “I’ve never heard of him,” Vanderwood says, and Saeran merely shrugs.

            “Probably a false name.” Saeyoung offers, turning onto another street.

            “But that’s not all – it’s a consistent schedule,” Jaehee explains, “Jumin noticed the timestamp of releases. Twice a week, a Mint Eye victim form was submitted with Tristan’s name _and_ the fifth number from the list Saeran found. All of the patients were released into the same halfway house. The only one _not_ released to this address was the man responsible for the shooting.”

            “Alright then. The fifth number is Tristan Rigby’s but who’s giving him the orders? What’s the address?” Saeran asks.

            “It’s off an old highway, I’ll text you the coordinates.” Jaehee says, and your phone buzzes with a link to the maps app. When you click it, and hold it up for Saeyoung to see, he stops the car.

            Saeyoung shifts into park, and unhooks his seatbelt to look back at Vanderwood. His eyes are wide but certain, “You know that address too, don’t you?” He says.

            “What am I missing?” you ask and Vanderwood nods mutely at Saeyoung before looking at you.

            “It’s a defunct agency building.” They say.

            “ _What_? _”_

“We used to submit our reports there – me more than Saeyoung. It’s an office complex with a top floor full of supercomputers.” Vanderwood explains, and then looks at Saeran. “When Saeyoung saved his brother and top secret intelligence was released on the news, that part of the agency discontinued the work being done there.”

            “But it didn’t dissolve.” You guess.

            “Right,” Vanderwood seems pleased at how easily you follow their line of thought, “Whoever has that place up and running again is probably the one giving orders to Tristan Rigby.”

            “So we follow this address, shut it down, and then have enough evidence to arrest Tristan.” Saeran says.

            “Exactly.” Vanderwood points to you. “And you have to go into the agency building alone.”

            Saeyoung turns so quickly in his seat, you think he gets whiplash, “Have you lost your mind?” he seethes.

            “Have _you?_ ” Vanderwood snarks, “If you or I are seen on their cameras, they’re immediately going to recognize us. Same goes for Saeran since you’ve got the same damn face.”

             “No.” Saeyoung says, “No, no, no, no, no, _no way._ ”

            Vanderwood struggles to keep his voice steady when he speaks, frustration working its way into his words, “All she has to do is go in with a memory disk that’ll upload their new information onto the net. We don’t have any other choice, Luciel! Do you want a target on your back for the rest of your life? Do you want your wife to get shot protecting you again? Or Saeran?”

            Saeyoung shakes his head furiously, his eyes closed. He turns away from Vanderwood to face forward and pulls the keys out of the ignition, stepping out of the car.

            “Why are you being unreasonable!” Vanderwood calls after him before Saeyoung slams the door and starts walking down the road. Vanderwood sighs in exasperation, collapsing back into their own seat.

            You watch Saeyoung’s back as he walks, and then you see him fist his hands into his hair, spinning directionless on the dirt road. You unhook your seatbelt and step out of the car, walking to him.

            He doesn’t need to look at you to know it’s you whose followed him. “Nothing you say is going to convince me.” He says, his voice rough.

            “I know.”

            “Let’s just leave the country,” he starts, “Go somewhere else, we can bring Saeran. Tell the RFA we’ll be MIA for a bit but we’ll get wi-fi at some internet café and,” He’s babbling incessantly, and you can see the tears threatening the corner of his eyes.

            You reach for him, smoothing your good hand down his back and up between his shoulder blades. He looks at the ground, and shakes his head.

            “Let me protect you.” You say, and he lets out a quiet sob, covering his face. You step until you’re in his personal space and then wrap your arm around him. Saeyoung’s hands are around you without hesitation, his nose and mouth pressed to the juncture between your throat and your good shoulder.

            The sound of scuffing feet comes to your attention and Saeyoung pulls away enough for the two of you to spot Saeran walking over.

            “I’ll dye my hair something dark,” he offers, putting his hands in his pockets. “And get some contacts, change my clothes.” he sighs, “It’ll be a tough sell but my voice is different and they don’t know me as well.”

            Saeyoung is quiet, and you wipe his wet cheek.

            “Saeyoung, you know this is the best we can do.” Saeran says, and Saeyoung finally nods, brief and relenting.

            “Fine.” He croaks – and that’s the most you know that you’ll get from him. It’s the only proof you have that Saeyoung will concede.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your patience, folks! I've been going through some real life stuff and it's been hard to make time for writing. If you like what I do and would like to help, [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/S6S19SNH)!

**“Just another nameless guy with no conscience who lives for extortion,” Vanderwood muses** , their voice sounding pessimistic even over the low quality of your ear piece. Vanderwood and Saeyoung are holed up in the car, hidden away from the building’s security. You were past the front door of the building already, making your way past another security door to gain access to the top floors.

            “Are we making bets now?” you murmur, tugging at the short black wig you were wearing as part of your disguise. Saeran stands next to you, typing something into a nearby console, his hair covered by a blond wig. When he steps back and the door opens, he notices your irritation and tucks some of the synthetic hair back into place for you.

            “No I’m just trying to keep it light and casual, since your husband looks like he’s about to bite my head off.” Vanderwood replies. You can practically hear Saeran roll his eyes next to you.

            “I do _not.”_ Saeyoung grouses into his microphone. 

            “Give us the layout again, would you?” Saeran says roughly.

            “There are two elevators in the building. One for the four main floors, and another for the three top floors.” Vanderwood explains. “You won’t see many other agents around in the public areas, but security clearance will be watching anyone who tries to get to the second elevator for the top floors.”

            You do, in fact, see other agents – but they’re busy typing things out on computers and they don’t seem eager to socialize. Saeran elbows you gently to keep walking, and the two of you pass a large lobby encased in glass.

            “How many are there?” you speak under your breath and Saeran shrugs.

            “Can’t really know. Some could be out on missions, others could be elsewhere in the building.” Vanderwood replies in your earpiece. “But it’s a small extremist faction, not an army. You’ll be fine.”

            “Isn’t that how most history prologues start?” you offer.

            You can hear Saeyoung laughing into his microphone.

            The two of you make it to the first elevator and Saeran puts his forged ID card into a keypad on the left. The elevator starts moving, and you take a minute to catch your breath, breathing out through your mouth quietly.

            You can feel Saeran watching you. He steps closer, bumping shoulders with you in a comforting gesture, but remains silent. The elevator opens, and you’re on the fourth floor.

            “Okay.” Saeran says, and you can hear Vanderwood typing.

            “You’ll have to ask for clearance to get onto the second elevator.”

            “Or you could turn off the security camera in the booth.” Saeran suggests, and Vanderwood doesn’t reply for a moment before you hear them snort.

            “I should’ve known.”

            “Turn off the cameras.” Saeran repeats.

            He picks up the pace, walking faster than you’re prepared for. He rounds the corner of the security booth, and before you even get around the corner, you hear a loud crack.

            “What’s the–” you see the security guard on the floor, his glasses snapped in two. “Hurry.” You finish, and Saeran raises his eyebrows at you.

“That’s not subtle.” You chide.

“What’s not subtle?” Saeyoung asks over your earpiece.

“I knocked out the security guard.” Saeran replies, tugging at the lapels of the man’s jacket for an ID card.

“Why would you do that?!” Saeyoung sounds irritated.

“Would you rather your wife be interrogated? She can’t stop shaking, I’m trying to buy us time.”

“You’re shaking? Wait, babe are you scared?” Saeyoung asks, a bit more worried.

“I’m _fine._ ” You glare at Saeran, who glares right back.

“Things are about to move very fast, I hope you know.” Vanderwood chimes in.

“Did you turn off the cameras?”

“Only the ones in the booth. They _might’ve_ seen two agents scurrying into the security room.”

“Great.” You say, panic rising in your throat.

The elevator you just got off of pings, signalling you to the fact that more people are _definitely coming upstairs to see what the problem is_.

“Gosh they’re fast!” Vanderwood sounds almost amused and you feel like you might vomit.

“Oh, they’re cutting our—” and the earpiece goes entirely silent.

You look over at your husband’s twin and he’s frowning.

“Connection.” Saeran supplies, and then he drags the man’s body so it’s hiding under the security booth’s main desk. He takes off the man’s hat and puts it on his own head.

“What?”

“They found our frequency, you have to go up alone.” Saeran takes off the security man’s jacket and puts it on, and then takes out a small data chip from his pants pocket and offers it to you.

“Go.” Saeran says to you, and you can’t you _can’t._ You shake your head.

“No, we go together, that was the plan.”

“We can’t stick to the plan anymore, you have to do this. Before backup comes.”

When you ignore him, he does something that Saeran always does – he surprises you.

He says your name. And it’s a wonder you don’t feel more shocked when you look up at him because he _never_ says your name.

            “Please.” He says. You give pause, and then you find it within yourself to reach forward and clasp his fingers with your good hand.

You hold his hand in your own, and then you take the data card from his grasp, folding it safely into your palm.

The elevator that you just got out of pings again, and you can hear the noise of another door, further away, opening and closing loudly.

“Go.” He says, and you’re already moving, going around the corner of the door and down the hallway to the second elevator.

“Hold on there.” Came another person’s voice, and you know that it must be the backup.

“It’s fine, I gave her clearance. Her friend’s submitting his paperwork.” Saeran says as he walks over to the booth’s entrance, buying you time as you round the corner to the second elevator. You notice the emergency stairs to your right, and contemplate yours and Saeran’s escape – contemplate abandoning the plan because it’s so risky that you feel like your whole body is a sparking wire.

But you press on, slamming your fingers with more force than necessary in the elevator button.

The doors open with a pleasant chime, and you get into the elevator, pressing the button to the top floor, where you know the data centre is. The doors begin to close.

The loud clanging of another door brings you out of your own concentration, and the elevator door closes with a hiss.

You breathe out slowly, closing your eyes, tugging the black wig off your head.

But then the elevator pings again and you haven’t _moved_ from this floor, but the doors are sliding open again and you feel a wild panic surging at being caught so suddenly –

            “Hello there,” Saeyoung smiles at you, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s breathing hard. He steps inside and you’re lost for words, looking up at him as the elevator door closes behind him once more, confining the two of you securely together again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we come with the conclusion. thank you to everyone for being so fuuuucking patient, i really struggled with this one. i never like finishing mysme fics because it means I have to tie a bow on a fic about saeyoung which just makes me miss him!!! 
> 
> i really hope you enjoy the finale, and thank you again for all your support with the crackerjack series ♥

            **All at once, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.**

            And anger.

            God _dammit_ you’re angry.

            You kiss Saeyoung  _hard,_ your mouth practically punishing before you pull away.

            “You don’t trust me,” you say, allowing him to keep his hands still in your hair, and you don’t bother hiding how much you’re shaking with _relief_ and he smiles sadly.

            “I trust you plenty.” It’s hard to believe him when his lips are red and his face flushed. He still can’t seem to catch his breath.

            “You didn’t let me do this alone.” You accuse.

            “I got worried.”

            You turn back to face the elevator door, and his hands drop.

            “Worry about your brother, not me.”

            “Saeran doesn’t like me hovering.”

            “I can’t imagine why.” You bite back, and you can feel some of your anger ebbing when Saeyoung doesn’t immediately reply. It’s stupid – all of it. You know why he worries about you, and you would’ve done the same thing for him had it been the other way around. You glance down at the wig you’d been wearing only minutes ago, lying in a heap on the elevator floor.

            You can feel Saeyoung coming up behind you, and then his hand tentatively reaches for yours. There’s no hesitation when you entwine your fingers with his, and although you sigh in exasperation, he kisses your temple soothingly.

            “We’ll be ok.” He says. And the two of you let your hands go, though still stand shoulder to shoulder.

 

  

            When the doors open, the room is pitch black, save for the light from the elevator illuminating the floor in front of you. Saeyoung starts to lead, though there’s an eerie silence to it all that has you on edge. As Vanderwood had described, supercomputers line the walls, emitting a low humming noise. You realize Saeyoung is getting uncomfortably far from you,

            “Saeyoung,” you call.

            There’s a loud shuffle of _something_ that’s too loud to be him alone. And when the lights come on, a gentleman is behind you, holding you at gunpoint – with Saeyoung only a few feet away from you in the same line of fire.

            You feel your blood run cold.

            “Tristan Rigby.” You say, and the man looks at your face. He’s – well – average. In every way, there’s no descriptor that would make him seem familiar.

            “John is fine, sweetheart.” He says, smiling. “No doubt you know that’s not my real name.”  

            “John Smith, then.” You sneer, and he seems amused at your anger.

            “That’ll do, yes.”

            “How long did you sit up here looking like a stupid fucking idiot crouched in the dark?” you smarm.

            “Long enough to plan it well enough that you didn’t see it coming.” He says back. He looks at Saeyoung, whose hands are raised over his head.

            “You seem quite easygoing for someone whose about to be shot.” John says and you snarl. “I was talking to your husband, sweetheart.”

            Saeyoung eyes are burning with fury, “I’m an ex-agent, I’m familiar.”

            “Do you know why I’ve done this, Mr. Choi?”

            Your husband’s gaze doesn’t waver on the gunman, “Can’t live a normal life now that the world knows your secrets?”

            John smiles, nodding once, “I thought it only right I return the favor. To have your whole life exposed – to have everything ruined. Your fingerprints are all over this place, _Saeyoung Choi._ What better way to kill you than through your own ghosts?”

            Before you have a chance to react, John grabs you by your bad arm and kicks your legs from under you, forcing you roughly to the floor. Saeyoung lets out a furious noise and John points his gun up at your husband, his foot on your torso.

            “I was disappointed that Mint Eye defect didn’t kill you when he had a chance. Such a waste.”

            Saeyoung’s voice is laced with an acidity you’ve never heard before, “Get your foot off of her.” He barks.

            “I can’t do that Mr. Choi. After all, it’s your fault she’s injured. Right?”

            “Go _fuck_ yourself,” you spit at him.

            John presses his foot down onto your bad shoulder and you scream in pain but there’s _fury_ too. You’re angry enough to strangle him. You want him dead you want him _dead_ —

            “That’s enough –” Saeyoung shouts, and then even louder, “ _THAT’S ENOUGH!”_

            And then, in the distance, you hear a sound like a firecracker, followed by a wave of shattered glass.

            The pressure on your shoulder starts to fade, and you gasp in shock and relief. When you manage to crane your neck and look at John, he’s clutching his own shoulder in the same place as your own injury. And your vision tunnels.

The glass of the double doors is completely scattered across the tiled flooring. And standing in the doorway with a gun in their hand is Vanderwood.

            “Oh darn,” Vanderwood feigns innocence with a playful smile. “I missed!” 

            Something clicks in your mind in that instant, because you don’t feel any sense of relief at seeing your friend in the doorway.

            Your eyes are glued to John.

            He stumbles back one step, and then another. Before long, he’s leaning on one of the nearby metal cabinets, the stain of blood making you feel sick. His face contorts, and you realize belatedly that you can’t look away from this man because _you’re having a panic attack_. The noise of the gun is the only thing that you can remember, it reverberates again and again in your mind, sending you spiralling and there’s a terrible weight in your chest that won’t seem to let up.

            Saeran drives the heel of his palm into John’s jaw, and then punches him so hard he topples back. You can’t watch, but you can feel the pain in your own shoulder – it’s like there isn’t enough oxygen.

            There’s a prolonged amount of silence. Or, you think it’s silent but there’s a loud noise that won’t stop buzzing in the back of your mind.

            “Hey,” Saeran says, closer to your face now. When did he get there? “It’s okay,” he tries to reassure you as he unties the rope from your hands. Saeran touches your hand, and hushes you because you’re sobbing so loudly it’s almost a wail. Oh _that’s_ the noise.

            “Saeran,” Saeyoung says, his voice more strained. “Vanderwood, _someone_ please untie me,” and when you glance over, you see your husband is looking at you.

            Saeyoung picks you up from the floor in seconds and holds you close to him. You throw your good arm around his neck, your mind racing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, voice shaking and hoarse. You’ve come too close to losing everything too many times to bear.

            “I’m okay.” He reassures you.

            “He didn’t hurt you?” you ask, half expecting him to lie.

            “He didn’t. I promise, he didn’t.”

            You close your eyes, and you remember how Saeyoung looked at you when you were bleeding on the pavement.

“I was scared,” you say.

            “I was scared too.” He says back, and when you pull back to look at him, his eyes look exhausted but _hail_ he looks relieved.

 

Saeyoung holds you, and he’s okay, and you’re okay,

 

 

and it’s enough.

* * *

 

            It took more than standard police officers to deal with such a monumental breach of security. The old building that once housed secret agents from all over the world was closed for good, and was swept top to bottom for confidential information.

            Vanderwood had managed to make connections with their old colleagues, and informed them of John’s intent to use Mint Eye victims as pawns. The system was slowly wiped. Neither Saeyoung or Vanderwood were clean in terms of personal records, but their assistance with trying to take down the old company they worked for didn’t go unnoticed. It would take much more work to find the last remnants of what blackmail the agency had collected over the years, but the hatred that burned in John’s heart had nothing left but dying embers.

            The man called ‘John’ was taken into police custody, though he was utterly powerless without his connections. Vanderwood seemed to be under the impression that without him, the bitterness that any ex-agents felt would simply fade and then disappear over time. He was a nameless entity that only had power because he used ex-members of Mint Eye. Especially since it was revealed who he was manipulating to get what he wanted. His sentencing would be a long list and would take a long time, but you felt safer knowing he was far away from Saeyoung and Saeran.

            Though you hadn’t felt well in a long time, something about Vanderwood looking so convinced seemed to ease your mind.

            You’d recovered with the help of the other members of the RFA after a few months. Vanderwood had stuck close for a while too, but came up to the C & R building one sunny afternoon to say goodbye.

            “I have to leave again. Head off the grid, you know how it is.” They smiled.

            Saeyoung actually looked sad this time, “You don’t have to, you know. You can stay here with us.”

            Vanderwood sighed and glanced over at Saeran who watched them with an unreadable expression.

            They reached into the inside of their jacket to take out an old flip phone, offering out their other hand to you. Your arm, now healed, closed the distance as Vanderwood clasped your wrist gently and made your palm face upward, dropping the phone into it.

            Letting go, they took out a lollypop from a different pocket and popped it in their mouth. “I’ve had that phone for years. It was my personal one for a long time since I wanted to keep some distance between myself and the agency.” They cleared their throat when you looked at them quizzically, then they looked at Saeyoung. “You two should…take care of it. I want it back so…”

            You leap forward and wrap Vanderwood in a tight hug instead of saying anything back. Nothing would be good enough – nothing could possibly convey the gratitude you felt for their help.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

            It’s shortly after Vanderwood leaves that you and Saeyoung start to move forward again. You do eventually end up leaving the bunker. Into an old fixer-upper of a house that’s surrounded by trees, and at least twenty minutes away from the bustle of the city. He and Saeran build a vegetable garden in the backyard, and you convince the two of them to help you with planting some flowers near the front entrance.

            The three of you host get-togethers almost every weekend for the RFA. After everything you’d all been through, it only seems right that you remain a tight-knit family. Nothing could ever change that.

            And you and Saeyoung –

 

            Well,

 

           

            “My hair is getting too long again,” Saeyoung grouses, sitting on a wicker chair in the sunroom. “Look at these bangs!” he points dramatically, “How can I possibly admire my wife like this!”

            You huff out a laugh, bringing over two glasses of cold coffee, the ice clinking at the same tempo you move. It’s only a few steps down to where your husband is sitting, though he seems to still always meet you halfway, eager to be close to you (as if you’re not always attached at the hip already).

            He leans up and kisses you when you stand in front of him, though you have to bend a bit to reach him. When he pulls back to look at you, he smiles.

            “I don’t know,” you start, pushing his bangs back from his face. “I think you look dashing when your hair is a bit mussed. Makes you look roguish.”

            Saeyoung quirks a half-smile and laughs, “I’m trying to be a proper husband now, you know. It can’t always be roguish charm.”

            You take a beat, swallowing nervously. Tentatively, you run your fingers near the shell of his ear, brushing some of the unruly red strands from your husband’s face.

            “I don’t know. Roguish charm is a pretty good look for a dad.”

             There’s a pause, where Saeyoung is looking at the floor,

 

            And then he looks up, a smile, beautiful and golden and bright, blooms on his features. He picks you up in an embrace and spins you around the sunroom.

 

 

            And outside in the garden, amidst the lavender coloured petunias, is the steady hum of beating wings.


End file.
